


Our Flynn

by emilycare



Category: Timeless (TV 2016)
Genre: Garcyatt, Multi, Polyamory, garcy, lyatt, wucy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-27
Updated: 2017-07-27
Packaged: 2018-12-07 11:44:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,766
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11622834
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/emilycare/pseuds/emilycare
Summary: "Sorry to disappoint."Flynn gave a wry smile. "No, Lucy. You do not. Frustrate, confound and surprise, often. But disappoint? Never."Romantic encounters between Garcia Flynn, Lucy Preston and Wyatt Logan. AU where Flynn doubles back to help the Time Team when they are ambushed by Jesse James, setting some changes in their relationships in motion. #garcyatt as a gift for Alodis.





	Our Flynn

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Alodis](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Alodis/gifts).



"She's waking up."

Lucy blinked. The world was a blur. She felt cold. There was strange pressure on her side. She heard a voice, but could not place it.

Each new sensation built a mystery. Where was she? What had happened? Part of her mind ratcheted up in tension and fear. But strangely, these emotions were a distant whisper. She felt disconnected, as though she were floating outside of her body.

As her vision became more clear, she realized Wyatt was close beside her. One piece of the puzzle fell into place. It was his voice she had heard. His blue eyes were trained on hers. His mouth was taut and tense.

Lucy swallowed, trying to speak, then croaked out, "You look so worried, Gorgeous."

The look of anxiety in his eyes suddenly changed to amusement. But he said, "Now I am worried. The Lucy Preston I know would never be caught dead complimenting me." A hint of rose crept up his cheeks, and his hand tightened on one of hers.

Lucy tried to chuckle but only succeeded in closing her eyes again. She mumbled, "Judith Campbell, when you're right, you're right."

Another voice chimed in, "Maybe I should leave you two alone? Go join the others?"

Something was very wrong with this voice. Lucy could not place what it was, but she felt a sensation of tumbling through space, of slamming back into her body. Now she felt pain. Her face showed strain. Her nerves registered a jangle of impulses that all added up to one thing: harm. The fear came closer. From a whisper, to a murmur to a shout, and she remembered being shot.

"Wyatt?" she scrabbled for him, trying to turn, and-"Eahhh!" she attemptes a yell from the pain, but it turned into a grunt.

"Lucy, Lucy! Shh, shhhh.. Lie still. It's okay." She settled, starting to pant from the pain. Why wouldn't Wyatt take the ice pick out of her side? No, that's right she'd been shot. By Flynn? No. The sound of too-rapid gun fire came back to her. The bullets riddling the walls of the cabin. Jesse James crowing in triumph over their cries of fear and anger when Lucy told the others she was hit.

"Can you shut it?" Wyatt said intensely to someone. "You were all worried about her before."

"That doesn't mean I want to sit here watching you two make eyes at each other while you play nurse maid."

Lucy's eyes shot open and she tried to bolt up right. "Flynn!? Wyatt—what is he doing here?" She tried to find him, failed as her stomach turned and pain shot through her. The world grew dim. She became light-headed, on the cusp of fainting.

"Lucy!" Wyatt's voice deepened with concern. "You are safe. We have a truce. He called a truce. To help you."

"Rufus?" her head was spinning in more ways than one.

"Safe. With Bass and Grant." He hesitated. "And listen first—" he made a calming gesture. "They went with Emma to get the time machines. They'll jump here and we can get you to a hospital. Lucy, shhhh...you have to lie still." Lucy tried to move again, winced in pain.

Flynn spoke up. "So stubborn. I can see I'm not helping. You explain to your charge. I'll be outside." Lucy could not see the look Wyatt gave Flynn but she heard the former NSA agent's response. "Just outside. I'm not going anywhere."

"Wyatt, what?" He took her hand.

"It's all right, Lucy. It may only be temporary, but we can trust him."

"Why? How?" She spoke in short gasps.

Wyatt smoothed her brow with his hand. "He saved us, Lucy." His expression grew bleaker. "Except for you. He made Emma come back, he couldn't abandon us to face James with that gun."

Lucy grew took this opportunity to check her bandage and apply pressure again. "You're gonna be fine." He said it quietly, like a mantra to convince her and himself.

As Lucy drifted off, she heard him say, "I'm not going to let you go."

Lucy woke slowly again. She had an impression of having been surrounded by warmth, but now she just felt the blankets and her own body heat. Then she felt someone take her hand. She relaxed. "Wyatt?"

"He'll be right back, Lucy. Rufus and Emma are here." Lucy realized that Garcia Flynn was sitting by her side, holding her hand.

She held very still, both remembering Wyatt's words about trusting Flynn and making mental calculations about how to defend herself if Wyatt was wrong.

"It's strange..." he trailed off and she thought he would not continue. Her senses were sharpened, listening for the sounds of the others, anticipating the relief of knowing she was no longer at his mercy. But he continued.

"It is strange being with you. I feel as if I know you so well, but you are not the person I know. From the journal."

"Sorry to disappoint."

Flynn gave a wry smile. "No, Lucy. You do not. Frustrate, confound and surprise, often. But disappoint? Never."

Lucy was stunned back into silence. She heard voices. Flynn tore his hand away, and stood. He disappeared from her view and she did not see him again. Wyatt and Rufus joined her and carried her to the Lifeboat. Wyatt hovered over her through the whole trip, buckling her seat belts gingerly. Rufus shot him some choice looks, and got some rolled eyes in return. Lucy too discomforted by the journey, missed most of it. But when she woke in the hospital, Wyatt was there to greet her.

* * *

 

Lucy watched until the Lifeboat disappeared hoping that her promises to Wyatt would prove to be true. The ache in her side reminding her all too clearly how their plans could go wrong.

She watched the wind from the Lifeboat's jump hit her grandfather, Ethan. Lucy saw the dawning of belief waken in his eyes. He had believed her relation to him before, but she could that now the possibility of time travel being real began to truly sink in.

She explained her idea to him with Flynn listening in. Keep inside Rittenhouse. Blend in and learn their secrets. Let them trust him and make it possible for them to bring the whole house of cards come crashing down, in his grand-daughter's lifetime.

Flynn kept quiet, letting her make her own arguments and convince her grandfather. She missed Rufus and Wyatt's support. She glanced at Flynn once or twice but his half-hooded eyes gave no hint of his feelings or any indication that what she was doing was the right course of action. She clamped down on her internal doubt and continued on unadvised.

She felt the lack of Wyatt's arm in hers like a missing limb. Since her injury, he'd been...attentive. Jiya and Rufus had forced him to leave the hospital to rest, but he'd been her constant cheerful companion until they gave her the all clear. And then haunted her apartment as she recovered.

Earlier this very day he'd fought like a lion to escape detainment by McCarthy's security detail and find her. He'd interrupted her tête-à-tête with Flynn where she received his existential ultimatum. She could still see the bruise on Flynn's cheek from the punch Wyatt had laid into him. Made it twice as hard to convince Flynn to trust her later, but something strange had passed between the two men in the chamber beneath the Rittenhouse meeting.

As she and Flynn walked to the Mothership he kept his thoughts to himself. Lucy couldn't take it any more. "So you're giving me the silent treatment? Shouldn't you be angry at Wyatt, not me?"

He looked at her finally, gave her a half smile. Then he frowned seeing her slightly labored breathing and the uncomfortable hitch in her stride as she swung the leg on her injured side. He offered her his arm.

They walked in silence, this one more companionable. He broke the quiet eventually.

"Of course I'm not still mad at your Wyatt. Violence seems to be the terms of our relationship. And of course, I was literally threatening to excise you from existence. If anything..." he trailed off.

Lucy looked at him curiously. "What?"

He grimaced but continued. "I should be grateful. Such a waste to save you only to have to destroy you at the next turn."

Lucy had no response to this. She was saved from having to try by the sight of Emma emerging from the Mothership. And she was amused to see that Emma was more surprised than she was.

Emma glared at Lucy, then Flynn. "Again? This is becoming a habit?" Lucy waited for Flynn's cutting remark, but none came. Instead, he instructed Emma on their destination and simply said. "Lucy has convinced me there may be another way."

When time came to leave, Lucy walked over to climb into the time machine. She braced herself for the pain. There was no avoiding it. She thought with longing of Wyatt, and hoped he was safe. As she raised her arms she felt a hand touch her shoulder softly.

Flynn stood beside her. "May I?" She hesitated. She saw Emma inside, adjusting the settings, preparing for launch. It became awkward and Flynn nodded. He looked about to step away, until Lucy nodded.

She looked up at him and quirked a smile. "You know, I do need help." The slightest shadow of a smile crossed Flynn's face. Before she knew it, his hands were on her waist. She rested one hand on his shoulder. There was some memory that half surfaced. She couldn't put her finger on it, but something was familiar in his touch.

He shifted his hands carefully to support her without putting pressure on her healing side. His dark eyes met hers. Then she felt herself rising and was safely deposited in the Mothership.

Lucy kept quiet for the rest of the journey. Not feeling in danger. Quite the opposite. Flynn accompanied her to her rendezvous with Wyatt. She stumbled as quickly as she could into Wyatt's arms. She felt his breath release in relief, and saw Wyatt nod to Flynn. Again, a look crossed between them that Lucy could not interpret. Flynn caught her eye and nodded before he strode off.

Wyatt gave no indication of wanting to release her from their embrace. Instead he held her closer. "You're safe," he breathed.

She nodded, leaning back to look up at him. "Have you heard any news? Has anything changed? I have to find my grandfather—will you come with me?"

"Lucy.." Wyatt shook his head slightly and looked in her eyes. He startled her by putting his hand to her cheek. "Where you go, I go. I..." Whatever he was going to say got lost as he instead moved his face closer to hers.

"Wyatt?" Lucy watched his lips come close to hers, transfixed.

"Lucy," he whispered, "I don't think I could bear seeing you walk away from me again."

"Wyatt." Lucy breathed his name like a prayer. She closed the distance between them, and met his lips with hers.

* * *

 

The air in the maximum security prison felt stale in Wyatt's lungs. It returned him to his visit to Wes Gilliam, the man Garcia Flynn had blamed for Jessica's death. A man who no longer existed. Memories of the fear and longing he felt in that moment constricted his stomach. He stopped walking, making Lucy pause as well. Although she had long since recovered from her injury, offering her his arm had become habit reinforced by the growing intimacy between them. Walking by her side was his new normal.

Wyatt looked at Lucy, feeling stricken. He knew she would understand his reluctance to work with Flynn, as he understood hers. But there were moments they'd shared with the Croatian that made him hope this would work out.

Agent Christopher had sent them as emissaries. They'd each had the most contact with him over the months as adversaries, but also as allies in moments. They needed his help now. Denise had convinced them that the offer must come from a credible source, not just with the authority, but with the emotional connection that could sway Flynn. They each had sins to answer for in Flynn's account. But the stakes were high. Their persuasion must outweigh past disappointments and betrayals.

They were ushered in by a series of guards and administrative personnel. Wyatt could feel Lucy shudder as they walked deeper into the facility. As they waited for him to be escorted into the visiting room, she said to Wyatt quietly, "We're why he is here." Wyatt returned, "You're why he's alive."

Flynn was clad in regulation orange. His hair was buzzed, just a shadow of his usual thick black mane. To Wyatt's eyes he looked strained, lacking sleep and thinner. Wyatt and Lucy exchanged a glance. He was suffering here.

Lucy explained the situation to Flynn. He remained silent and shot daggers at her with his eyes, glaring intently at her and ignoring all else around him. Wyatt felt his hackles rising at the hostility Flynn showed. He found himself standing beside the table between Lucy and Flynn, his hands close to his non-existent gun. Flynn, and everyone's eyes focused on Wyatt and a guard asked him to take his seat. When they did, he found Flynn dividing his attention between the two of them, and Wyatt breathed easier. This was going to be difficult enough. Flynn needed to be able to see Lucy as an ally again, not the sole source of his loss of all he held dear.

Lucy concluded at last, "..so we are empowered to bring an offer to you. To perform services as a limited contractor of the United States government, and in return be able to plea bargain your sentence to have various charges dropped, your sentence reduced and given the ability to serve out your term in minimal security or possibly even under house arrest."

Wyatt, aiming to prod Flynn to again focus his anger on him rather than Lucy, added, "If you prove yourself trustworthy."

The gambit worked. Flynn had been listening calmly but grimly, but now his eyes narrowed and his nostrils flared. He turned to Wyatt and spoke in a gravelly whisper that steadily rose in volume, "You speak of trust? I gave you my trust. And this is how it was returned? I'm in here, left to rot, and they—whomever they are—go unpunished for the murders of my family?" He turned to look at Lucy. "You owe me. And this is how you repay me? Asking me to risk my life for a country that is rotten and cankored with the blight of Rittenhouse?" Lucy flinched at the accusation. He ended on a near shout, prompting his guard to cut in.

"Flynn! One warning. Another outburst and you're back inside."

Flynn nodded and calmed down, but he still looked unconvinced. "You need me. I'm here to listen. Tell my why I should really help you?"

Lucy looked to Wyatt, needing a moment to recover herself. He picked up for her and spoke harshly. "Flynn, you did trust us. And we trusted you in return. What did that get us? Rufus shot by Al Capone? You nearly destroying Lucy? We have to stop this endless round of retribution. We have to work together, like we did in 1882. I know you want to do what's right. You proved it then. Help us and let us help you."

Lucy had gathered herself, she nodded at Wyatt as he paused, ready to begin to speak again, but he looked a question at her and held up his hand slightly. Wyatt moved closer to the table. He spoke quietly directly to Flynn. Quietly enough that Lucy had to strain to hear him.

"Flynn, you helped me save try to save what I most love in the world, twice. And I think I know what that meant to you." Flynn's eyes slipped to Lucy momentarily as he listened. "Let us help, and we will try to help you do the same." The guard made a restless gesture at the quiet exchange, and Wyatt leaned back, continued more loudly, "We have resources we can bring to bear that can get information about who called for the hit on your wife and child." Flynn's eyes took on a haunted expression. Lucy stepped in.

"We want to save you, we want to save them. We want to put right what has been made wrong. Please take this chance with us." Flynn looked at Lucy and she saw sadness in his eyes. "We need your help against Emma, and you have no other options. No one is coming out of the wood-work to save you. I know it will be impossible for you to forgive me—" Wyatt cut in, "You didn't know what Agent Christopher was going to do!" Lucy responded, "I should have known. You would have predicted it in my place, Wyatt. I had the opportunity to help Flynn truly, and I failed him."

Turning to Flynn she said, "I do owe you." Wyatt looked at Flynn knowingly and shook his head, but Lucy, focused on Flynn did not see. "Let me pay my debt to you. Let us work together and find a way to stop all of this together. And reclaim our loved ones and our lives."

Flynn looked at Lucy, trying to read something in her eyes. Wyatt watched, aware of the way Flynn's eyes lingered on Lucy's eyes, her lips. Saw his manacled hands make a half-movement to touch hers as she spoke. He saw the way Flynn's breath changed when he had first seen Lucy. He remembered a cold, cold night in a cabin, deep in Indian territory where this ex-NSA agent and he had huddled together to keep the pale injured historian lying in bed between them warm enough to survive the night. He knew Flynn would help them, and he knew another of the reasons why.

Flynn agreed. "I will talk to Christopher." Lucy breathed a sigh of relief. She looked at Wyatt in triumph. He grinned back at her, watching Flynn look at her and saw for just a moment the longing. Flynn looked to Wyatt, who nodded to him, acknowledging it all.

* * *

 

A cold wind whistled around the edges of the sandbags and wooden barricades that defined the edge of the foxhole. Wyatt and Flynn had been boxed in for several hours. The machine gun nest controlled the space around them. Bodies of two other soldiers who had tried to get away still lay on the ground nearby. Wyatt felt Flynn's back and flank butt up against his own. They hadn't rested in hours, tensely listening for the sound of German voices, the rattle of gunfire, the flash of bombs in the distance. Their only hope was to convince the gunners that they had been killed, too. Perhaps find a lapse in the coverage to allow them to sneak away and search for the rest of the team in this wasteland of no-man's land.

Wyatt whispered to Flynn. "You think the Kaiser's having a fat turkey leg right now? Some braunschweiger?"

Flynn gestured for Wyatt to speak even more quietly, but then he intoned, "Probably having a huge stein full of beer."

A voice rang out. They both tensed waiting for the onslaught. But it did not come.

Wyatt said, "They think they got us, I'm sure."

Flynn returned, "Then why don't they come out and check our position?"

Wyatt returned, "Laziness."

Flynn took his eyes from the trench lip of the barricade and turned to look at Wyatt. He lifted an eyebrow and gave him a glare. "How does Lucy put up with you, I do not know."

Wyatt heard Flynn shifting, but kept his watch on the dark night beyond. "It's my magnetic personality. Plus, I didn't really give her any choice."

Flynn looked back outside. He shivered from the cold and unconsciously leaned more deeply into Wyatt's side. "Okay, tell me the story. Nothing to do here anyway." His hand loosened on his gun. He breathed on it and rubbed it with his other gloved hand. "Keep me entertained, just keep it quiet."

Wyatt smirked. "You've got a way of making a guy feel wanted. Hey, if we don't get any rest we're just going to drop like flies. What say we take turns at least pretending to relax?"

Flynn gave Wyatt another look. He nodded. "Okay. You first."

Wyatt shook his head. "No, you're clearly still recovering from being in prison. I've got a lot more rest under my head. You should take a break first."

Flynn grinned grimly. "Ah, but who's been keeping you company in your comfy bed? I don't think you properly appreciate the fine pitch to your nerves that sleeping in prison can give a person. I won't be sleeping any time soon. You will be dropping as soon as the adrenaline high wears off. Plus, how can you watch and tell me your story at the same time? Can't be done. I'll listen. Stay awake."

"Flynn, I think that's the longest speech I've heard you make. But I must disagree—"

"Wyatt. You aren't afraid I will run off on you are you?"

A silence. "I should be. Your tracer wouldn't work here in the past."

"But you're not?"

Wyatt felt the weight that Flynn leaned against him shift for a moment. As though Flynn were considering moving away. Instead, Wyatt relaxed his muscles and gave his weight to Flynn. He felt the tensed muscles against his give way slightly in response, the sense of coiled movement waiting to be triggered disappeared.

"No. No, I trust you." A silence fell between them. It lengthened.

"But you were saying? Tell me of your courtship. I'm all ears."

Wyatt grinned again. "Just let me get comfortable." He shifted so that his back was fully supported by the barricade. Instead of pushing now to support the pressure of Flynn's weight, he could relax and take whatever was given. As he settled, Wyatt said, "The one mercy is that she is not here." Both men nodded. He went on, "After we got back from killing Jesse James, I just wouldn't let her out of my sight."

"Ah, you were pushy? I wouldn't have thought you the stalker type."

Wyatt rolled his eyes. "She was injured. You saw how she was." Wyatt felt rather than saw Flynn nod. "And she had no one to take care of her, now that her Mother's gone to the dark side. But she's proud. As I'm sure you know." Flynn nodded again. "I just kept showing up on her doorstep. She threw me out the first few days. Then I arrived back and she'd taken a fall. Stubborn."

"So you took advantage of her vulnerability. Very romantic. She must have been so impressed when you tried to leave her behind to go save Jessica."

Wyatt rolled his eyes and his nostrils flared. "How are you still alive? I'm shocked you weren't shiv'd on your second day in prison."

Flynn gave Wyatt a very dark glance. "Who says they did not try?"

Wyatt shuddered. He was silent for a long time. Then he said, almost inaudibly. "She made me go."

Flynn was distracted now. "What?"

Wyatt grasped his gun more fully now, and raised his eyes to the darkness beyond. "Watch out, Bucko. This only works if at least one of us is paying attention."

Flynn glared at the soldier again. Wyatt could practically see the thoughts of knifing him go through Flynn's mind. "Maybe this just isn't going to work."

Flynn nodded. "You keep to your side, I'll keep to mine."

Wyatt shifted again, half-kneeling now, aimed out into the darkness. The gap between him and Flynn spread cold like a wound through his body. They listened. A voice cried out and a sudden barrage of automatic fire strafed the no-man's land to their east, the bullets kicking up sand and dirt. Bodies hit twitching with false life.

Wyatt and Flynn crouched lower, covering their heads with their arms. A piece of wood was shot above Wyatt. It shattered, spraying him. He found another arm across his shoulders. They both dropped down. Wyatt got a face full of dirt. He heard a grunt from Flynn as another piece of their shelter fell on him.

The strafing continued on down the line. A gun at another pinch point picked it up and they heard cheers, cries. Wyatt, for the first time, faced the thoughts that he'd suppressed for so long. What if we can't break out and rejoin them. What if this is it. What if I never see her again?

They crouched like this, jumbled on top of one another for long minutes after the firing near them stopped. Wyatt felt his heart-rate slow and his energy drop as Flynn had predicted. He felt the warmth of the other man, and the cold of the dirt beneath him leaching out the core heat of his body. He was almost lulled into a sleep by the sudden release of exertion lying down gave him, and the comforting feel of another human against him. He shook his head trying to waken himself. _Can't let that bastard be the hero **and** be right._ He felt Flynn shift above him, and hard elbows stabbed into him as the tall man levered himself up and off. Flynn took himself to the extreme end of the foxhole. Looking deliberately away from Wyatt.

Wyatt pulled himself up and settled again on the ground. Breathing slowly, he tried to regain his equilibrium. Shock, panic and suddenly lowered hormones pushed him in many directions at once. "Thanks." Flynn shook his head, did not meet his eyes. "I think I do need to rest. Wake me in a few minutes." Wyatt waited until he saw Flynn acknowledge his request. Then he closed his eyes.

At some point, Wyatt heard a voice say: "She didn't remember." He identified it as Flynn, remembered what their position was, and snapped back awake, immediately gripping his gun.

He'd heard the words, but Wyatt was mystified. "Remember what?" Flynn stayed silent. Wyatt went on, "You thought I was asleep, but I'm not. So now explain. What didn't she remember?"

Grudgingly, Flynn said, "The two of us. Saving her. Keeping her..warm."

Wyatt, despite it all, raised his eyebrows and gave wide, smug smile. "That night she was injured, while we waited for Rufus? No. She was well and truly out of it. I figured I'd explain if she ever brought it up, but she never did.

"So you lied to her?"

Wyatt gaped. "You seem to have a lot invested in me being a terrible partner to Lucy Preston. How do you know that she forgot?"

Flynn sighed. "It is a..strange thing to do for your enemy. When I saw her again, it would have been a thing she needed to understand. She didn't bring it up, so I imagine that she did not remember."

Wyatt nodded. "You were right. I didn't tell her because I couldn't explain it. And also, there were things it might bring up that I wasn't sure I could understand." The distance between them yawned. Seemed a mile across. Wyatt tilted his head slightly in invitation. Flynn moved slowly, deliberately closer to Wyatt, settled down beside him with his back against the barricade as well.

They sat, saying nothing for a long time. Then...

"She cares about you, you know."

Flynn nodded. Wyatt put a hand to the tall man's shoulder. Gave him a half smile. Flynn looked at him and shook his head.

Just then they heard a familiar voice. "Guys? Guys!" Rufus came around the edge of the fox hole. "We took out those soldiers, but I'm not sure how long we'll have before they are discovered." Rufus took in the familiarity of touch going on between the two. "Are you okay?"

Wyatt and Flynn looked at one another. Wyatt nodded. "Yeah. But a lot better for seeing you, buddy." He leapt up and gave Rufus a fond embrace.

Flynn, all business again, rose cautiously and said, "Plenty of time for celebrating after we are out of this hell hole." But as Flynn crept quietly away, it was the note of sadness in those bitter words that stuck in Wyatt's ears.

* * *

 

"He's waking up."

Flynn was warm and comfortable. The slight weight of the ankle monitor still set his heart beating in fear each time he emerged from the edge of sleep. But this morning it seemed a more remote worry. Even the strangeness of not being in the rough, narrow cot of prison, and missing the stank of human confinement and misery seemed less a cause for worry than contentment to his blurry brain. Then he remembered the last time he'd been clear headed and sober. His eyes popped open, he reached for the gun, long since siezed by government officers, which had become his constant companion in his journal-guided existence.

His hand met warm, solid flesh. His heart beat took an uptick. His mind ran through scenarios and he started scrabbling for purchase, trying to look for a way out of this soft trap. A soft hand touched his chest. "Flynn, it's okay, you're safe." His heart beat even faster. He worked harder to find a way out.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa!" Wyatt jumped off the bed. "Easy there, tiger. Like she said, you're safe. No need to go all ninja on us." Flynn noted though, that Wyatt's hands were at the ready and he saw the gesture the soldier gave Lucy to move out of the bed as well.

Always the contrarian, Lucy shook her head at Wyatt. "Garcia, we...just wanted you not to be alone last night."

Flynn's mind returned again to his memories. They'd returned from their latest mission, a shallow dive to the late 70s and the Iranian hostage crisis. He wasn't sure how long the trip would take, would he be back in time for the anniversary? But indeed, the fates and Emma had conspired to bring him back to the present in time for his wedding day to tick by again. Another day full of wrath and anger. Sadness and longing.

After so many trips, and substantially "proving" himself, Flynn had more latitude for travel. A security detail pinned to him and the tether around his right ankle to make him an easy find if he tried to flee. He made his way to the cemetery and spent the twilight in the company of his lost family. The dark of night found him at a bar. With a sardonic satisfaction he charged drink after endless drink to the Department of Homeland Security. The thread of memory got lost somewhere along the way...

He came back to the present moment and felt Lucy's unsure hand settle on his shoulder. Saw the relaxation in Wyatt's jaw as he dropped down and sat on the bed beside them again. Saw the sweep of bronzed muscle to one side, and the alabaster willowy limbs to the other. He closed his eyes resisting the siren call of warmth, acceptance and belonging that seemed to be offered to him.

He felt a rougher hand touch his shoulder, and involuntarily opened his eyes to gaze into Wyatt's clear blue ones. Wyatt smiled.

"Hey, I told her what you did." Flynn raised his eyebrow questioningly. "Well, what we did. In 1882." Flynn was startled again to find Lucy slipping her arm around him, settling in beside him. The pale soft material of her nightgown raised goose-bumps as it slid across his arm.

"You did?" Flynn's voice was leaden. He felt a weight on his shoulders. He brain would not seem to work.

Wyatt nodded and crossed his legs. He ran his hand down the length of Flynn's arm clasped his hand and rested it in his lap. Flynn closed his eyes and shivered at the gentle touch. His attention was caught by the downy flannel of Wyatt's pajama trousers. The warmth and beat of his pulse in the leg beneath.

Wyatt went on, "Yes. As you aptly reminded me in Germany, lying by omission is still a lie. I told her it all." Flynn looked at him. "Everything."

Lucy's nod against Flynn's arm turned into a nuzzle. Flynn's heart accelerated again and he suddenly did not know where to put his hands, where to point his gaze.

As Flynn panicked, Wyatt leaned over him. He touched Lucy's hair with his free hand, then gave her a gentle kiss on the crown of her head. He gave a soft look to Flynn, leaned over and gave the man a tender kiss on his brow.

Flynn's eyes closed involuntarily, then with the hand held in Wyatt's clutched the other man close. His free arm went around Lucy, and the sadness that he'd kept at bay with the endless rounds of alcohol all came spilling out. He sobbed his wife's name, his child's. The two time travelers held him, and each other as he poured his sadness into the bottomless well of their compassion and care.

They let him cry. Touching his hair softly. Making soothing sounds but offering no promises of easy peace. Eventually his well ran dry and he sat there, empty, resting against these strange bedfellows. Lucy touched his face for the first time. She reached up and touched her lips to his. Offering comfort, not passion. But deep inside him he felt a flame burning. When her lips left his, he felt startled. Looked to Wyatt, waiting for...something. Wyatt watched with a small smile on his face. He leaned in and took Garcia's lips with his own. They kissed for a longer moment. Tongues met. Their faces parted and each looked at the other wondering. Lucy leaned against Flynn and the weight of all that emotion suddenly hit him. He slumped down in place. She guided him beside her. Wyatt kept his distance for the moment.

Flynn curled around Lucy, and watched as Wyatt got up to pull the blinds, close the lights, and return to them. Flynn was grateful for this chance to shed his burdens. To sample the love being offered to him. He wondered what could lie ahead of them all, but for once, he wanted to see where this path would lead.


End file.
